A Herd of Watermelon
My work tools include rubber boots, a hydraulic
jack and snake tongs. Prevention over cure, always.
A helicopter’s shadow crosses the yard.
I sweat in cold weather; today even the shade burns.
Ants swarm a dead bat on the gravel.
No keys for these locks, no fire for that place.
Stepping inside, the city welcomes me.
We drain coffers for this grass, and hope for rain.
This morning two deer jumped the east fence while I
updated software. The significance eludes us.
A dream of watermelons rising from their viny beds,
lumbering through the field to the creek. Rebellion!
How many have sat at this desk before me, plotting
murders and rumors or rhymes. Die, mosquito. Die!
“A Herd of Watermelon” was drafted during the August 2016 Tupelo Press 30-30 Challenge. Thank you to Plain Jane for sponsoring the poem and providing the title. Alas, my time at this very special place has ended. No longer in Texas, I seek work elsewhere. What will I find?
Bilingual cowboys with tool-starred spurs stay the stampede of seed filled melons. Their pinto green backs now standing, sweating, breathing, waiting….
LikeLiked by 2 people
And that’s the way it’s done! π
LikeLike
WHAT? No longer in Texas? As in … not coming back?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m in Indiana, where it was 60 degrees this morning. Oh, I’ll be returning to Texas to visit, but I don’t know what the future holds as for living there again. Life is strange and wonderful and complex, and I’m moving forward as best I can.
LikeLiked by 2 people
So glad I got to hear you read live a couple of times before your transition northward!! The blog works from anywhere – looking forward to transition poems.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m so pleased to have been able to talk with you in person! I’m sure the poems will come forth at some point…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Where are the stars taking you?
LikeLiked by 1 person
They’ve brought me to the Midwest – Indianapolis.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well then. Guess you’ll be hanging out at the track. That’s all I know about Indianapolis, except that it’s where you take a right turn to head south for Georgia. Speaking as someone who grew up in Central Illinois.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, probably not the track. π I find Indy to be an interesting place, quite diverse. I was worried about finding my ethnic cooking ingredients here, but everything is available! Now I just have to find that special bookstore…
LikeLiked by 1 person
The home of Kurt Vonnegut!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! Though I’ve yet to venture out much, beyond shopping for needed items and food.
LikeLike
Apparently, Indiana wants you, Bob. π May you find a happy home there.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Is that an R. Dean Taylor reference? Gawd! I can’t believe I pulled that name out! And thank you, Cate!
LikeLike
As Roger Miller noted, you can’t go swimming in a watermelon patch (but you can be happy if you’ve a mind to…) (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Roger Miller was a very wise man, and yep, I’ve a mind to. π
LikeLike
I really love the line about sweating in cold weather, and the shade burning. It’s such a nice image! β€
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! There are those days…
LikeLike
I know that Texas will always hold fond memories for you, Bob.
I drive right through Indianapolis on my drives to/from Buffalo. Perhaps we can meet for coffee, sometime.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, yes. We must meet for coffee. Or a beer. Or a meal!
LikeLiked by 1 person
π
LikeLike
Pingback: Do Not Frighten the Garden | Frank Hudson
I finished my own poem your herd of watermelon’s inspired and wrote a little orchestral score to perform it to. When I posted it this afternoon I wrote some thoughts I’ve had reading your work here, and maybe expressed something about why so many other writers (such as myself) like reading O at the Edges.
https://frankhudson.org/2019/09/14/do-not-frighten-the-garden/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! Thanks so much, Frank. I’m honored that you would take the time to do so. It’s comforting to know that someone, somewhere, reads my work!
LikeLike